Chapter 11
Victor
The next morning, I slip out of our suite and join Matteo, Owen, and Luke for a ride to the Strip.
Tobias is staying behind to take Lili and Grace back to my place when they wake up.
The four of us are quiet for most of the ride, and I know we must make quite a sight when we walk through the casino to the private elevator that will take us to Hunter’s floor.
The elevator doors slide open to reveal Hunter Novak’s private domain at the top of the Pink Sapphire.
Morning light floods through floor-to-ceiling windows, turning the Las Vegas Strip below into a pale imitation of its nighttime self.
Hunter stands at the far end of his conference table, back to us, shoulders rigid under a suit that looks like he’s slept in it.
When he turns, the shadows under his eyes confirm what I already know: he hasn’t left Trinity’s side except for this meeting.
His usual immaculate appearance is gone, replaced by stubbled cheeks and hair that’s been raked through by worried fingers too many times.
“Gentlemen.” His voice is sandpaper rough. No handshakes offered. No pleasantries.
Owen, Matteo, Luke, and I file in silently. We take seats around the polished conference table without being invited. Hunter remains standing, fingers splayed on the glass surface, watching us with cold calculation.
“She’s stable,” he says before any of us can ask. “Breathing on her own. Doctors say the bullet missed doing considerably more damage by millimeters.”
Matteo lets out a breath. “That’s good news.”
Hunter’s laugh is sharp and humorless. “Good news would be my wife never being shot at all.”
No one replies. What is there to say? He’s right.
The air conditioner hums, pushing cold air through vents that seem to be aimed directly at our necks. I resist the urge to shift in my chair. Behind Hunter, a bank of security monitors silently displays various areas of his casino empire. The man has eyes everywhere. Always has.
Hunter reaches for a file folder and slams it onto the table. The sound cracks through the room like a gunshot.
“Three days,” he says. “That’s all that’s left of your week. Draven’s still walking free, and I’m losing patience.”
“We’re making progress,” Owen starts, but Hunter cuts him off with a raised hand.
“Not good enough. So, I’m offering a solution.
” He flips open the folder and pushes it toward me.
Inside is an invitation to a charity gala, gold lettering on heavy cream cardstock.
“Draven is hosting this tomorrow night at his estate. Security will be tight, but this invitation will get anyone in.”
I scan the details. A fundraiser for a children’s charity. The irony of Phineas Draven pretending to care about vulnerable children makes my stomach turn.
“You want us to crash it,” Luke says, leaning forward.
Hunter shakes his head once. His gaze locks on mine, unblinking. “I want Liliana to attend.”
My blood turns to ice. “No.”
“She’s the only one he’ll talk to,” Hunter continues as if I hadn’t spoken. “She shows up, creates a distraction, draws him out. My team will be in place to grab him.”
I push the folder away. “Absolutely not.”
“You kidnapped her,” Hunter says, voice rising slightly. “But now you won’t use her to solve the very problem you created?”
“I won’t use her as bait,” I say, each word clipped and final. My spine straightens, shoulders squaring automatically. “Not happening.”
Hunter’s knuckles go white against the table. “You don’t seem to understand the position you’re in, Serrano.”
“I understand perfectly.” I hold his gaze without blinking. “And my answer is still no.”
Matteo shifts beside me, crossing one leg over the other. I can sense him evaluating, calculating, the way he always does in tense negotiations. Owen’s face remains neutral, but his fingers tap once against his thigh, our silent signal for escalating danger.
Luke clears his throat. “Perhaps we could—”
“Send in the wife I know Victor is fucking to face the man who’s been beating her for years?” Hunter interrupts, leaning forward until his tie nearly touches the table. “That’s the plan. It’s clean, it’s effective, and it doesn’t give Draven time to slip away again.”
My jaw clenches so hard my teeth might crack. “That’s not her name.”
“What?”
“Her name is Liliana. Not ‘the wife.’ And she’s not a chess piece for you to sacrifice.”
Hunter’s face reddens, a vein pulsing at his temple. “Trinity wasn’t a chess piece either, but she’s lying in a hospital bed with tubes coming out of her because of your war with Draven.”
“Our war?” The words come out too sharp, too loud. I force myself to take a breath. “Phineas Draven has been a cancer on this city for years. You’ve just been willing to deal with him until now.”
Luke makes a small noise of warning. I’m crossing a line, but I don’t care.
Hunter slams his fist on the table. “Don’t you dare try to shift blame. Not when I can still destroy everything you’ve built.”
The threat hangs between us. I remain still, refusing to flinch or look away. The windows behind Hunter frame the desert sky, endless blue stretching beyond the Strip. Somewhere out there, Grace and Liliana are waiting for me to come home to them. Counting on me to keep them safe.
“Find another way,” I say finally.
Owen leans forward. “We have alternatives in motion. The gala approach is too risky, especially with Draven already on high alert after the shooting.”
“I don’t give a fuck about risk,” Hunter says, but something in his voice has changed. A hairline fracture in his usual control.
Matteo notices it too. “You would if you were thinking clearly,” he says quietly. “This isn’t like you, Hunter. Trinity wouldn’t want you making decisions from this place.”
The mention of his wife’s name hits Hunter like a physical blow. He straightens, running a hand over his face. For a split second, I see past the casino mogul to the man beneath, hollow with fear and exhaustion.
“Trinity was right there,” he says, voice suddenly raw, as he stares at me. “Right beside you. The bullet was meant for Liliana, but it could have been my wife’s heart instead of her spine.”
I stand slowly, keeping my movements deliberate. “I’m not dismissing what happened to Trinity. But sending Liliana in would be handing Draven exactly what he wants. We’d lose our only leverage, and Trinity’s shooting would be for nothing.”
Hunter’s breath comes out in a slow hiss. “Then what do you propose?”
I look at the invitation again, mind already turning over alternatives. “We need access to Draven, but not through Liliana. And we need a plan that doesn’t end with more innocent people caught in the crossfire.”
“Fine,” Hunter says after a long moment. “But the clock is still ticking, Victor. And I’m not known for my patience.”
I nod once, acknowledging both the concession and the threat still lingering beneath it. Hunter hasn’t backed down. He’s merely regrouping, like any skilled strategist would.
“Liliana has asked to visit Trinity,” I say, changing tactics. “She wants to apologize for what happened.”
And just like that, the temporary truce shatters.
Hunter’s face goes from red to white in an instant.
His palm slams down on the table with enough force to send his coffee cup clattering across the polished surface, dark liquid sloshing over the rim and onto the papers beneath.
“Are you out of your fucking mind?” he shouts, voice filling the cavernous office.
“You want to bring the woman Phineas Draven is trying to kill into my wife’s hospital room? ”
I don’t flinch. “Liliana feels responsible.”
“I don’t give a shit what she feels,” Hunter spits, leaning forward on both palms now.
Coffee drips from the edge of the table to the floor.
No one moves to clean it up. “Trinity is surrounded by the best security money can buy because I don’t trust anyone right now.
Least of all the people who put her in that hospital bed. ”
“That’s not fair,” Luke says quietly.
Hunter laughs, a harsh sound stripped of humor. “Fair? You want to talk to me about fair when my wife might never walk again?”
I hold my ground, keeping my voice level. “Liliana is also a victim here. One with her own trauma to process.”
“Process it somewhere else,” Hunter snaps. “Not at my wife’s bedside.”
Owen leans forward. “Hunter, no one is suggesting we compromise Trinity’s security. We’d coordinate with your team, follow every protocol.”
Hunter’s eyes narrow to slits. “No. I’ll tell Trinity that Liliana sends her regrets.”
The office feels even colder now, the air conditioner whirring loudly over the tension in the air. Matteo shifts in his chair, eyes tracking between Hunter and me like he’s watching a chess match. Luke’s fingers tap once, twice against the armrest of his chair.
“Actually, I think it might be beneficial.”
The voice comes from the corner of the room, where Samuel Carter has been standing so silently, I’d almost forgotten his presence.
He steps forward now, his movements precise and controlled.
Unlike Hunter, Samuel looks freshly showered and impeccably dressed, though the shadows under his eyes tell of similar sleepless nights.
Hunter’s head snaps toward him. “You want to repeat that, Sam?”
Samuel doesn’t rush to fill the silence. When he finally speaks, his voice carries the weight of careful consideration. “Erin spent all night with Trinity. She mentioned that Trinity’s been asking about Liliana.”
Hunter’s jaw works beneath his skin. “My wife is on heavy pain medication.”
“She’s lucid,” Samuel counters quietly. “And worried about the woman who was standing next to you when the shooting happened.”
Hunter turns away, pacing behind his chair. His fingers rake through his already disheveled hair, leaving it standing in uneven spikes. “This is insane.”